


Yours

by idrilhadhafang



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blow Jobs, Brief Mention Of Top Drop, Collars, Comfort Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Devoted Kylo Ren, Dom/sub Play, Dominant Poe Dameron, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Poe Dameron, Good Kylo Ren, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Past Abuse Outside Of Darkpilot, Protective Kylo Ren, Submissive Kylo Ren, Weird Fluff, gentle dominance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23578228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: Kylo and Poe have a certain arrangement.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32
Collections: Trope Bingo: Round Fourteen





	Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Power Dynamics
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It’s an arrangement of sorts. Part of it. Kylo kneeling before Poe, Poe standing over him with a collar designed to suppress the Force. It’s a simple collar, but Kylo can’t help but be overwhelmed by all it means.   
  
“You trust me?” Poe’s voice is soft in that moment, but also, Kylo can swear he can hear a bit of uncertainty in it. Kylo can already sense the fears all but buzzing in Poe’s head like flies, worries that somehow, he’ll end up like Snoke, or Palpatine. Kylo doubts it, of course. Poe isn’t like that. Poe does have a streak of darkness in him, but darkness and evil aren’t always the same thing. Poe’s a fundamentally decent, kind man who wouldn’t even dream of hurting someone else. Who sees the good in people, even when they blatantly don’t deserve it (like Kylo). This is different. There weren’t any safewords with Snoke when Snoke was hurting him. Poe? Somehow, for reasons that Kylo can’t explain, Poe loves and cares for him.   
  
“I do." Kylo says.   
  
The collar fits perfectly around his strong neck, and the noises, the voices...they just stop. Kylo can’t help but be grateful for that. It’s quiet, but it’s a bizarrely soothing quiet. When you hear the sounds of the universe in your head, the sounds of violence, you’d do anything to get respite.  
  
"You’re doing so well,” Poe murmurs.   
  
Kylo can believe it, at least, the way Poe talks to him, the way Poe looks at him.   
  
When Poe unzips for him, putting his erect shaft on display, Kylo notices how it curls towards Poe’s belly, and he smiles a bit. The idea of Poe wanting him, needing him...he has to admit that it is flattering, having that effect on the most powerful man in the Resistance.  
  
“You want this?” Poe says.   
  
“I do.” It’s not just the matter of pleasure, he thinks as Poe lets him get to work. It’s the matter of giving all he is, all he could be.   
  
Kylo has to admit that he does like this. Moments when Poe’s words, usually so strong and earnest and pretty, get reduced to nonsense as Kylo pleasures him. Nonsense praise and sweet words that feel like a balm when Kylo soaks them in. What starts off as “you’re so good, Kylo” melts into stuff that’s mostly nonsense, but sweetness all the same. And when Poe’s legs start to shake, to tremble — well, Kylo’s ready for what comes next. They’ve negotiated this. Kylo takes Poe’s release as Poe climaxes, swallowing it down, until his love is all but spent.  
  
They’re not done, of course. Poe looks at him, at the growing, straining hardness against Kylo’s pants. “You’ve been so good,” Poe says. “You think you deserve a reward, Kylo? Your release?”  
  
“Please, sir.” Even that title is enough to give Kylo pleasant chills. Names have a powerful impact. Outside the bedroom, they just try to act relatively professional. It does do funny things to Kylo to hear Poe calling him “sweetheart” outside their play. Or “angel”.   
  
“Unzip for me then, love. Touch yourself.”  
  
Kylo can’t deny him. He also can’t deny that he likes, really likes, the way Poe’s eyes seem to adore him quietly. He groans in pleasure as he strokes, just turned on by being so owned and wanted and loved.   
  
“More,” Poe says softly, and again, Kylo can’t deny him.   
  
“Yours.” Kylo gasps it as he feels himself getting closer, the sensations more intense, agonizing and delicious all at once. “Please, sir, let me come...”  
  
“Come for me. Show me.”  
  
Those words tip Kylo over the edge as he all but explodes in his own hand.   
  
***  
  
The collar comes off later, and Kylo can already feel how the thoughts that were buzzing in his head earlier seem more oddly relaxing now. Background noise. Poe’s already got the bacta, rubbing in places around Kylo’s neck, and Kylo’s relaxing into the touches, the rubbing.   
  
“It doesn’t sting, does it?” Poe says.   
  
“Not really.”  
  
Poe’s next job is rubbing out the cricks and kinks in Kylo’s shoulders and neck. Kylo sighs in relief as Poe hits a sensitive spot there, another there. Poe rubs, and Kylo relaxes into the touches. It feels good, he thinks, being touched, being handled so delicately, until Kylo is all but mush under Poe’s hands.   
  
“You did good,” Poe murmurs. “So good. Come on, lie down.”  
  
Kylo isn’t complaining, especially when Poe drapes a blanket over him. Somehow, he doesn’t feel as despairing and scared and angry and lonely as he would around Snoke. Somehow, he feels safe. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve someone so incandescent and kind, but he’s got it. More than got it, actually. It was the right thing to do, leaving the First Order. He’s still working on repairing things, but it is worth it all the same.   
  
Poe’s quiet for a moment. Quiet, contemplating. He doesn’t get into those moods very often, but Kylo is here nonetheless for him.   
  
“You didn’t hurt me,” Kylo says. “I promise you didn’t. I doubt you could be capable of that.”  
  
“I don’t want to be.” A sigh from Poe. “It just...hurts, knowing he did that to you.”  
  
“He’s dead,” Kylo says. “He can’t hurt anyone again.” A beat. “And you’re not him. You may have your points that annoy me...”  
  
“Well, thank you,” Poe says wryly.   
  
“But you are the sweetest, kindest man I could ask for." Kylo kisses the place near Poe’s lip he knows a scar used to be. He knows that he can’t undo what he did to Poe. He just hopes he can start healing the damage. To, in his way, show how important Poe is. People don’t know and appreciate this beautiful, talented, incandescent man that Kylo’s foolishly in love with. People denigrate him, doubt him, think him unimportant. If Kylo could mend Poe’s wounds with his lips and fingers and every adoring word, he would in a heartbeat.   
  
“I want people to know how wonderful you are,” Kylo says. “How you helped me.”  
  
“I want the same for you,” Poe says. His fingers caress the thin line of the scar Rey gave Kylo a year ago.   
  
They sleep, Kylo feeling almost foolishly content in Poe’s company.


End file.
